


It Only Makes Sense

by sherlockian4evr



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Asexual Sherlock, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Eventual Greg Lestrade/John Watson, Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Hand Jobs, John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes, Kissing, M/M, Rutting, Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson, Spooning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-08-24 11:35:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8370766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: Asexual Sherlock is convinced he gives John everthing he needs in a relationship, except for one thing. He wants to give him that too. With Greg Lestrade.





	1. Chapter 1

John sat on the sofa, Sherlock curled around him, watching telly. The detective had his head resting on John's shoulder. Sherlock was comfortable, content. In fact, he was almost purring. That was when he noticed the change in John. The other man had gotten hard at some point during the program. The doctor had tried to hide his predicament by pulling a blanket over the two of them.

Sherlock snorted. "Go take care of yourself John. I'll be here when you come back." He punctuated his words with a kiss to his boyfriend's cheek.

"You're sure you don't mind?" John said, blushing.

"You know I don't. I wouldn't have suggested it if I did." The detective uncurled himself from around John and watched as his boyfriend made his way to the bathroom for a therapeutic shower.

Sherlock steepled his hands beneath his chin and considered the situation. The doctor had adjusted quite well to their relationship. He seemed to take Sherlock's asexuality in stride. They cuddled. They kissed (closed mouthed only). Sherlock wasn't bothered by John's erections and he wasn't bothered by being their cause. In fact, he was flattered. Still, something had to be done. John deserved to have sexual intercourse with a partner. The detective thought he had just the solution to the problem. Pullling out his mobile, he placed a call.

* * *

When John appeared in his dressing gown and pyjamas, Sherlock shook his head. "We're having company. You might want to get dressed."

"What about you?" the doctor asked. Sherlock himself was clad in his red dressing gown and pyjama bottoms along with his tatty T-shirt.

"What I'm wearing doesn't matter. Now run along." The detective made a shooing gesture with his hand.

John shook his head in resignation and retreated to their room to get dressed. When he came back out, it was to hear the familiar voice of Greg Lestrade. "Oh, hi, Greg. Sherlock said we were expecting company, but he didn't bother to tell me who. Is there a case, then?"

Lestrade gave a bark of a laugh. "No, no case. Himself demanded my presence. Wouldn't tell me why, just said it was urgent."

"Urgent. Really?" John looked at Sherlock questioningly, but the other man sat there as calm as ever. "Hmph. Would you like something to drink, Greg? A beer for your trouble?"

"That sounds fantastic, mate." Greg took off his coat and placed it on the back of John's chair, then he sat on it. "So what's so urgent you brought me out this time of night?" He took the beer that the doctor handed him gratefully and watched as John took a seat next to Sherlock, his arm going around the detective.

"John's sexual needs," Sherlock replied to the DI's inquiry with his usual oblivious forthrightness.

It was a toss up as to who's spit take was the more spectacular, John's or Greg's.

The doctor wiped his mouth and shouted, "Bloody hell!"

At the same time, Greg let out a "What the fuck?!"

Sherlock blinked a few times, before attempting to explain. "John needs to be sexually fulfilled. That is something I can't do for him. Of all the people in the world, I trust you, Lestrade, to take care of John. I know you are physically attracted to him. You have been since you met. At first, you didn't act on it because you were married. Later, you didn't act on it because you respect his relationship with me."

Greg had stood, but hadn't moved from the spot he occupied. "You make it sound like John is a sex fiend. I... this isn't right. I shouldn't be hearing this."

Sherlock noted that Greg hadn't refuted his deductions and that, more importantly, he was still there.

"Sherlock," the doctor said in a warning tone. "Let Greg leave and we can all forget this ever happened."

"John is not a sex fiend, Lestrade. I'm asexual. Look it up later. I don't do sex. It's too messy and unappealing. I give John everthing else he needs. I want to give him this. With you."

John was blushing furiously. This whole thing was madness, surely. He glanced at Greg. He really was a good looking bloke and a good friend. He bit his lip. No... Maybe... No...

Greg looked, somewhat reluctantly, over at John. The doctor wore a strange expression. One that mixed embarrassment, annoyance and... was that a hint of hope? The DI sat back down. He had to be mad to be considering this.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock stood and headed for the door to the flat, grabbing his coat. He clearly meant to be somewhere else very soon. John leapt to his feet and crossed the room ending up standing by Greg.

"Where do you think you're going?" the doctor asked. "You can't just say that and... and... run away!" His hands were waving about wildly.

The detective rolled his eyes as he shrugged on his Belstaff. "I'm not running away. I'm giving the two of you time to... enjoy yourselves." He started out the door, but John grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Wait! Greg and I, if we do this, it won't just be physical," the doctor warned. "You've got to understand that. Physicality tends to bring closeness, Sherlock. You've got to understand that."

"Of course I do, but as long as you love me and sleep in my bed, it'll be fine." Sherlock grinned cheekily at Greg. "You can even join us from time to time."

The DI shook his head. His young friend was unbelievable. "I still don't think you understand. Listen to John."

All humour fell from Sherlock's face as he shook off John's hand and stepped directly in front of Greg. His tone of voice grew deadly serious. "I do understand. I'm not asking you and John not to develop a bond. As I indicated, I expect it. That's why I chose you. Of all the people in the world, you are the only person I could tolerate as part of our lives. In fact..." The detective pressed his lips to the DI's forehead. "You see? You matter to me too." Sherlock turned to John, ignoring the stunned looks on both men's faces, and took him in his arms. "I promise you, I've thought about this." He buried his face at the junction of the doctor's neck and shoulder. "A lot. You both can have this." He let go of John, stepped back and waited. After a moment of silence, he slipped out of the flat.

John and Greg were left staring at one another uncomfortably. The doctor cleared his throat, then spoke, "Greg, I don't know what to say..."

"Mate, neither do I." The DI dry washed his face. "I need to finish that beer." He looked around and found it, picked it up and took a deep drink. "John, what the fuck do we do now?"

The doctor laughed. "Interesting choice of words." He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it.

"Ha ha," Greg said dryly.

John sat down, taking a sip of his own beer. "What we do now, is take this seriously. Sherlock wouldn't have suggested it if he wasn't okay with it, I see that. He's really thought about it. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intrigued."

Sitting heavily, Greg looked at the doctor. "I... Yeah. Me too. I just can't believe I'm admitting it." He laughed awkwardly. "He really doesn't do sex?"

"No." John shrugged. "He tried when we first got together, but I could see he wasn't into it. He was so bloody insistent about doing it anyway." He shook his head. "I had to put my foot down. I can't imagine anything less appealing than getting a leg over with someone who wasn't enjoying it."

The DI gave a shudder. "Me either." He set his beer down. "So, you and me. We're doing this, then?"

"Yeah, we really are," John agreed. "Um, I'm clean, by the way. I got myself tested before I knew about Sherlock."

"I'm clean too." Greg took another sip of his beer. "I got tested right after the divorce, after I realised my wife had cheated on me. I haven't done anything with anyone since." He suddenly realised he was getting hard just from the prospect of sex with John and he blushed a furious red.

"Don't worry, I'm more than a bit chuffed at the idea myself." John adjusted himself in his jeans, then he drained his beer. "If we're doing this, I don't see a better time than now."

Greg was on his feet before he knew what he was doing. He laughed, embarassed. "Which way?"

John took him by the hand. "Let's use my old room. We won't disturb Mrs. Hudson that way." He led the way from the living room and up the stairs, holding Greg's hand the entire way.


	3. Chapter 3

It couldn't be said that John was a shy man, far from it, but he hesitated for a bit when they had reached the shelter of his old room. He rubbed the back of his neck in a self conscious gesture. "Greg, there's something you should know."

The DI swallowed, wondering what his friend would be bringing up now, of all times. "Alright, go ahead."

"You already know I was invalided out of the army." John looked down at the floor, his face bright red. "I suppose you've figured out I was shot in the shoulder as well. You're very observant, despite what Sherlock says."

Greg's brow drew down in puzzlement. "Yeah, I've noticed how you favour it in cold weather, but you've never let it slow you down. What difference does that make?"

John shuffled his feet awkwardly. "The scar's not... pretty."

"Do you start all your romantic liaisons this way?" Greg asked, teasing. He cupped John's jaw with his palm. "I have scars of my own. Maybe they're not as spectacular, but I have my share. But seriously, do you tell everyone you sleep with this? It's not healthy."

The doctor shook his head. "No. Usually, things are more spontaneous and I... I don't take my vest off. But with you... You're my friend and I hope this lasts, whatever this is we're building with the three of us, so I don't want to hide."

"Good." The DI leaned in and kissed John. It started off as a gentle press of lips against lips, but soon the doctor opened to him. They stood there kissing for some time, their hands roaming over one another's bodies. Greg's arms wrapped around John's shoulders whilst the doctor's hands found the other man's trouser clad arse and squeezed.

Together, they tumbled onto the bed. Greg pulled at the hem of John's jumper and vest. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he said in a teasing manner. The doctor lifted his arms over his head and let himself be divested of his jumper and vest. Greg tossed both across the room. He took in the sight of John's muscular chest and shoulders, including the scar. "That's what you were worried about?" the DI asked. Yes, the scar covered a large area and, yes, it was rather ugly, but it was so much more than that. "It's a badge of honour, John, a symbol of your courage." Greg bent to kiss it. "I'm proud you've chosen to let me see it." He unbuttoned his own shirt and removed it along with his vest. "I'm afraid mine aren't so spectacular." He pointed to on one his left arm. "I was grazed by a bullet here." He pointed to one near his belly button. "And this one was from a stabbing. I spent some time in hospital from that one." He grimaced at the memory, then shrugged it off. "Not as long as you did with yours, I'm sure."

John reached out and traced each of Greg's scars. "I've never thought about it that way, it being a badge of courage, but I can see it clearly in your scars." He looked up at the DI. "Thank you for that. It means a lot." He lunged forward, suddenly wanting to show Greg just how much it meant to him. He pinned the DI down and started kissing him with frantic abandon. He trailed kisses down Greg's neck to his shoulder and along his collar bone. At some point, their clothed erections came in contact with one another and they both let out needy moans.

"Clothes," John gasped, "still too many clothes."

They separated and stripped as fast as they could, then they came back together, Greg on top this time.

"Christ, John, but it's been too long." He slammed their mouths together and rutted against the doctor roughly. John arched up to meet him in a heated frenzy of need.

The doctor nodded and grabbed Greg's arse. "Too long, yes," he agreed between kisses. When the DI reached between them and took them both in hand, John cried out incoherently. After a few moments, he managed to warn, "Not gonna last."

Greg didn't care, he wasn't going to last either. He brought them to the edge, tipping John over it first. As the doctor shouted his way through his orgasm, the DI held his breath, a trick he had learned that inevitably lead to his own body shaking orgasm. He rode the aftershocks of it, then collapsed at John's side. He threw an arm around the doctor, his palm resting on John's scar and closed his eyes. Together they drifted off into a post coital slumber.


	4. Chapter 4

Greg woke to find John sat on the edge of the bed. The doctor was gripping the sheets so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Obviously, he was tearing himself up about what they had done.

"John, mate, are you alright," the DI asked his voice full of concern. He knew the answer, but he didn't know what else to say.

The doctor gave a broken laugh. "Sorry, sorry. I shouldn't be doing this in front of you. It can't seem very complimentary. Jesus!" He scrubbed his hands over his face and started rocking. "You were a brilliant shag, Greg. This has nothing to do with you. That's not much better, is it?" He laughed again, almost hysterically. "You weren't just a shag. You're my friend, but Sherlock... What if he's changed his mind? What if he thinks I've betrayed him?" His voice held a note of hysteria.

Greg reached to rest a hand on John's shoulder, but hesitated, not sure if it would be welcome. He finally decided, what the hell and placed his hand there. "You know Sherlock, he never says anything he doesn't mean. It'll be alright." If it wasn't, Greg had best be on the next train out of London.

Turning around slightly, so he could see the DI, John bit his lip. "Yeah, but what if he's changed his mind about what he means?" It could happen, couldn't it?

The two men jumped, startled, as the door to the bedroom burst open. Sherlock came through and closed it firmly behind him, locking it. "I thought it was about time for one or both of you to work yourself up into a crisis." He pulled off his scarf and tossed it over a nearby chair. Next came the gloves and coat which joined the scarf. He looked from one of them to the other, his eyebrow raised.

The detective soon climbed on the bed. He had grabbed Lestrade's shirt on the way. He used it to cover the remains of the damp spot, then wriggled his way between the two of them as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "John, come here," he insisted, pulling the doctor down to lay by him so that John's head rested on his shoulder. "You too, Greg." He pulled the DI down on his other side. "There, that's better." He liked how it felt having them both there with him. If only they were more relaxed as they should be after having sex. Sherlock placed a kiss to John's temple, then surprised both John and Greg by placing a kiss to the top of Greg's head.

The DI's eyes widened and he started to pull away. What was Sherlock playing at?

"No. Stay. You mean a lot to me too. Just remember, I told you, we could share a bed sometimes, so long as you know it's John who my heart belongs to." He shifted in the bed, trying to get comfortable. "I want you both to understand that I meant that." Sherlock let out a discontented sound. "But it has been a long day and I do wish I was in my pyjamas. Sod this." He climbed out of the bed, grabbing one of each man's hands and dragging them along with him. "My bed's bigger and my pyjamas are in my room. Come on."

John and Greg followed, a bit in shock. They watched as Sherlock stripped, then pulled on his pyjama bottoms. When he climbed into bed, they just looked at one another. "I'm not going to wait all night. You're both pleasantly shagged out, I'm tired and in need of cuddles. John, come spoon me. Greg, you can spoon him." With that, the detective rolled onto his side and fluffed his pillow.

The doctor climbed onto the bed behind his boyfriend, his trepidation having fled for good. As he snuggled up and spooned Sherlock, he started to giggle. In between laughs, he managed to get out, "You're barking mad." This, of course, only made Sherlock preen.

Greg, in the process of climbing on the bed, chuckled. "Isn't he just. And we're the lucky bastards who profit from it." He pressed up against John, spooning him, his fingers brushing the detective's shoulder. "Thank you, Sherlock."

The detective reached up and covered the DI's hand. "As long as you can help me keep John happy, as long as you are happy, you're welcome." It really had been a long day and he was unusually knackered. "Sleep. Now."


End file.
